The night before
by tanithw
Summary: Voldemort is dead but the order are still at war with the Death Eaters and are loosing! The night before the final battle Minerva and Hermione find themselves in a compromising situation. Now jointly written with Tigertales, see chapter 2 for details.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Here's something that's been kicking around for a year or so. Thanks to Tigertales for her indulgance in running through this with me. Enjoy;)**

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12 Grimmauld Place – November 26th 1999

Hermione slammed the covers of her book shut with a growl; she flung it on the floor with a loud thud, unable to concentrate. She rolled over as much as she could on the sofa and tried to wrap the pillow around her head to muffle the noises coming from upstairs. "Whose bloody idea was this anyway? Bloody Order of the goddamn Phoenix." This night was insane and it was driving her crazy, her skin was tingling and her body was on fire.

_Squeak... squeak... thud_

Nothing had been right since Dumbledore's death, the time that she had spent on the run with Harry and Ron had changed them all. The quest for the Horcruxes had torn apart their friendships, when they had been repaired things were never the same. The Ministry had been taken over, Hogwarts was closed; they were hiding out in this shitty old house. Tomorrow they were fighting a hopeless battle, one they had little chance of surviving and she had to put up with this!

The pillow didn't help, the noises may have been muffled but she could still hear each and every one. "Damn ban on magic." With a final exasperated grunt she threw the blanket off and got off the sofa, cursing Harry and Ginny for stealing her bedroom. Maybe a drink would help her to sleep.

"_Oh... oh... yes"_

Throwing open the door to the kitchen, Hermione stormed inside. She stopped dead at the sight of her former Transfiguration professor sitting at the kitchen table. Minerva McGonagall was clearly visible in the dying light from the fire; Hermione nodded a greeting and sat opposite her. Those sparkling eyes looked at her, as usual seeing everything and she pushed her half full whisky glass towards the younger woman.

With a grateful smile Hermione took the glass from her hand and took a very large swig.

_Squeak... "Oh."_

"Worried about tomorrow?"

Hermione turned her thoughts to the coming final battle, "Yes but that's not what is keeping me awake." She indicated upwards with her head.

"They kicked you out of your bedroom too?"

"Too? You mean you're bed-less tonight?"

"I could not resist Filius and Pomona begging." Minerva chuckled, "I have seen this type of behaviour before." She took the glass back from Hermione and finished it, pouring another. "Something to do with the human need to be close to someone... in the face of overwhelming odds." Their eyes met and the young woman shivered.

Hermione took the glass from her mentors' cool fingers, drinking more of the fiery liquid before placing the glass back on the table. She acknowledged the truth in the older womans statement with a nod. "They could at least be quiet about it."

"There is something to be said about completely abandoning yourself to an experience." They were both silent for a few minutes, taking turns to drink from the same glass. They heard but tried not to hear the chorus of various people crying out, moaning and the occasional scream.

Some of the voices, some of the screams were explicit enough to make Hermione blush. At those points Minerva would break eye-contact with the younger woman. They continued to drink.

"This is driving me crazy." Hermione vigorously rubbed at her arms trying to dispel the goosebumps that had risen on her skin. Minerva chuckled and pulled up her sleeve revealing her own arm. The young woman swallowed hard, captivated by the pale skin that was exposed to her gaze.

_Thud... crash.... laughter_

"This many witches and wizards... joining... in such a small area produces a type of primal magic. It will affect those sensitive to it in a variety of ways." She pulled her sleeve back down and took the glass from Hermione's slack fingers, bringing it to her mouth for another slug. She bit back a moan when she realised that her lips were caressing the spot that full lips had touched moments before.

Hermione squirmed in her seat, watching the smirk that spread across Minerva's face in response to her action. "And how is it affecting you Minerva?" Her tone and eyes were daring and something inside the older woman responded to that.

"In rather the same way as you, my dear."

They both smirked. Minerva pushed the glass nearer to Hermione who accepted it. Watching the older witch over the rim she said, "If I didn't know better I would think that you were trying to seduce me." Minerva coughed before feeling her nipple tighten in response at the sultry statement.

Chocolate eyes widened as she witnessed Minerva's growing arousal, as she watched the fabric of her nightgown reveal erect nipples. A husky response filled the air with unrealised potential, "Perhaps I am."

"_Oh yes"... high-pitched monkey noises followed by a deep guttural grunting came from the East Wing._

Hermione stood abruptly, "I feel as though I am about to jump out of my skin." Her fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly as she rounded it and headed straight for Minerva.

Enhanced animagus senses began to detect the womanly scent of arousal emanating from the young witch, Minerva could feel a rush of wetness as her body began to involuntarily respond. Almost black eyes caught her gaze as Hermione moved closer still; they could both feel the tingling from the primal magic that filled Grimmauld Place race up and down their skin.

A young hand grasped the back of Minerva's chair, brushing against the hot skin of her shoulder as Hermione leaned closer. "Minerva?"

"Yes." Came the hoarse heated response.

"I don't want to die a virgin."

Minerva McGonagall lost the battle she was having with her self-control and she moaned. One hand slipped from the whisky glass and found its way onto a shapely hip, she turned sideways to fully face Hermione. Finding the proximity of the young brunette more intoxicating than the liquor.

An eager young thigh found its way between Minerva's knees as she moved ever closer. Hermione grinned cheekily when she felt a hand grip her other hip and pull her in. Minerva's lips found a patch of bare skin between Hermione's trousers and her top, she kissed the soft flesh feeling violent trembles under her lips.

It was at that moment when they both heard something that sounded like a horse whinnying followed by a female voice crying out for her partner to _'Come on, that's right, do me like a hippogriff'!_

In the kitchen meanwhile two women erupted into hysterical fits of laughter, it effectively broke the tension between them. Minerva stopped laughing long enough to say, "I will never be able to look at The Weasleys the same way ever again!"

Hermione stopped laughing, got a serious look on her face and engaged Minerva in an intense eye contact. "Or me, for that matter."

"Hermione..." Minerva stopped not knowing what to say, the young witch was right but none of them were expected to live past the next morning, how could she tell her what she was thinking – what she was feeling? She rose from her chair and pulled Hermione into an embrace, seeking young full lips with her own and engaging her in a passionate kiss.

_Squeak, squeak.... crash... "OH MY WORD!"_

Hermione sucked on Minerva's tongue before pulling back, breathlessly she whispered, "Oh my word, indeed."

Minerva snickered. "Are you sure about this Hermione, I can stop."

"Maybe you can but I can't!" She pulled Minerva back into a kiss, feeling two strong hands slide from her hips and onto the generous curve of her backside. Felt herself being lifted up into the kiss and bent backwards like the victim of an arrogant sheik in a cheap romance novel.

The older witch deposited Hermione on the dining table, feeling those eager thighs wrap around her waist pulling her closer, bringing friction to where the young woman needed it most. When they broke apart to breathe Minerva could feel hands sliding into her nightwear.

"Hermione..." There was no response as lips were caressing her throat, "Hermione... we need to.... go somewhere.... more comfortable... more private.... Hermione?"

Reluctantly Hermione tore her lips from Minerva's skin. "Library?" The one word sounded incredibly erotic, immensely appealing and with an entirely new connotation. Minerva nodded and they left the room as fast as they could to a chorus of _"OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH, ah, ah, ah, yes, oh, right there, now." Followed by a mighty roar from what could only have been a half-giant._


	2. Foreplay

**Authors Note: Well despite how it looks this is not a PWP, keep reading folks. I had maybe 1/3 the first chapter written, everything since, especially chapter two onwards is a collaboration between the wonderful Tigertales and myself. So enjoy because we're having a blast writing it.**

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When they entered the library mere moments later, the fire was still alight casting flickering shadows over the dishevelled sheets Hermione had left on the sofa.

A nervous Hermione crossed to the fire, trying in vain to rub the goose bumps from her arms. A moment later she was enfolded by strong arms in a tender embrace, she could feel the soft press of breasts against her back. She savoured the sensation of hips pressing against the curve of her rounded backside, the intimate warmth of another body so close to her own. The fact that it was her mentor, a woman she had strong feelings for added another dimension to the dynamic.

A hand brushed the curls from her neck, exposing the pale skin to Minerva's hungry lips. She felt the soft rasp of a tongue tasting her flesh for the first time and she moaned. Hermione's hands slid behind her grasping a firm well-muscled ass, grinding Minerva against her harder. She felt rather than heard an answering rumble from the animagus before two hand rose to cup her eager breasts.

Both of them were intoxicated by the magic that swirled around them, between them and through them.

_Squeak.... "Wooo-hooo"... crash... squeak... giggle_

Hermione turned in Minerva's arms and tangled a hand in loose ebony silkiness, she pulled the older witches head backwards – her own lips blazing a trail across a trembling throat. "Fancy making some noise of our own?"

A throaty laugh answered her, "Miss Granger, I thought you'd never ask."

Minerva's hand cupped the back of her head as she leaned in for the second kiss that they would share, more passionate, needier, and more wanton than the first – it was explosive.

_Laughter... squeak... "__**Engorgio**__"... squeak, squeak, squeak... "Oh Filius, I didn't know you could make it so big."_

They broke the kiss to laugh, Hermione forehead resting against Minerva's cheek. Nimble fingers made their way from chestnut curls to the buttons of her night shirt, slowly, deftly each button revealed silky skin just begging to be touched. Following suit Hermione's fingers began to caress Minerva's breasts through the thin sheer fabric.

"Oh." Neither woman was sure if it was the other moaning or someone else entirely but it was the most erotic sound that either had ever heard. Hermione leaned in and captured swollen lips in another searing, blistering kiss.

Reaching the last button, Minerva did not remove the garment but merely pushed it aside slightly, making room for her fingers to find the closure of Hermione's trousers. She broke the kiss and leaned backwards so that she could watch as she pulled on the drawstring, almost like opening the ribbon on a gift. She felt the same thrill of anticipation that was about to be realised.

Minerva dropped to her knees, heedless of the carpet burns she would notice later. Hands were on young shapely hips, thumbs sliding into a loose waistband. "May I?"

"You'd better!"

A grinning Minerva obliged. Pulling the fabric down over wondrous curves in a smooth motion, revealing dark chestnut curls. She growled, Hermione's scent much stronger than it had been in the kitchen. She was unable to stop herself from leaning in and burying her nose in lush curls. They both moaned.

_Bang... bang.."Oh. Oh!"_

Hands caressed the back of bare thighs, burning a trail upwards until they cupped full globes, pulling Hermione's moist silky folds against Minerva's enthusiastic tongue.

"Please." Hermione threw her head back, the sensation of lips caressing the bundle of sensitive nerves totally new to her, overwhelming in the pleasure that it engendered. "More." She begged and was rewarded with a devilishly skilled tongue slipping between her folds and finding the well-spring of her desire.

She cried out incoherently as Minerva's tongue mercilessly thrust inside her, her own fingers tangling tightly in ebony hair, trying to get more friction. Wanton she instinctively began to roll her hips against the older witches face. Abandoning her dripping centre Minerva made her way back up to Hermione's erect pearl. She pulled it between her lips with a gentle but insistent pressure, sucking.

There was a fevered lusty intensity to Minerva's actions that threw Hermione over the edge. Her voice rose to join in the chorus of the sexual symphony that echoed throughout 12 Grimmauld Place. "Oh, oh, oh god, **Minerva!**"

Silence echoed throughout the house as her words registered with the other inhabitants. That quiet was broken by laughter and Ron's muffled voice crying out, _"Way to 'Mione! 'Bout time you got some!"_ Various other congratulations could be heard, loudly.

A nervous Hermione bit her lip and she looked down at Minerva whose face sparkled with the sheen of her desire, moisture clearly visible coating the lower half of her face. Emerald eyes looked back at her, darkened with lust – one eyebrow was quirked.

"I'm sorry."

Minerva rose to her feet pulling Hermione into an embrace. "It was music to my ears my dear." She chose to address the young woman's cry rather than those that followed it.

Hermione smiled, "I guess we're rumbled."

"That we are."

The young witch cupped Minerva's cheek in her palm and tenderly lapped her own arousal from her lovers chin. The older woman moaned, "Do you have any idea how sexy that is?"

Not bothering to respond Hermione slid the straps of Minerva's nightgown from her shoulder in a smooth motion. She took a step backwards and began to devour the vista before her, creamy pale skin revealed to her eyes, to her touch. She began to inventory her mentors' body; long slender arms, a slim waist, toned abdomen, nicely rounded hips, full luscious breasts capped with rosy hard nubs and finally her gaze was drawn to a patch of neatly trimmed midnight black hair between long shapely legs.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Wondrous to behold. Truly breathtaking." A trembling finger reached out and brushed tenderly across circular scars on Minerva's chest before tracing a path downwards. Teasingly it made it way to Minerva's navel, feeling muscles contract at her touch, tickling the tender skin lightly listening to a mock-warning growl before making her way lower.

Suddenly Hermione retracted the finger and instead used her whole hand to cup Minerva's sex, feeling the heat that poured off of her, feeling the copious moisture begin to pool in her palm. "You are sooo wet."

Minerva's green eyes slanted closed in a cat-like motion, "It's been so long Hermione."

Hermione heard the loneliness, the ache in Minerva's words and resolved to give her everything that she needed on this... their last night. She pulled off her pyjama top with her free hand and kicked her trousers into a corner. "And what about me, do you like what you see?"

"You are truly exquisite, my dear!" Her fingers buried themselves in what was now an extremely dishevelled mane. They kissed once more. Hermione's arms wrapped tightly around Minerva, for a moment their naked bodies stood silhouetted – dark against the golden flickers of a dying fire.

_Squeak... "Yes, oh yes!"... thud, thud, squeak._

When the kiss broke Minerva took Hermione's hand and led her to the sofa. They stood for a moment looking at the messy sheets, "That sofa really isn't comfortable." Hermione groaned, wishing once more that her bed was free, although if it had been they would never have made it to this point.

Minerva gave her a quizzical look and slid a hand underneath the cushions finding the lever that turned it into a bed. Hermione just closed her eyes mortified, "And you call yourself a muggle-born?"

Darkened green eyes met almost black chocolate before they collapsed onto the sofa bed in fits of laughter, a tangled mass of arms, legs and skin. Fingers began to explore, kisses were given, begged for and willingly granted.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione felt her back pressed against the cool sheets and Minerva's weight fall atop of her. Warm soft skin slid sensuously over hers as the green eyed witch pulled her into a tender kiss. Hermione's hands tangled in Minerva's unbound greying hair, deepening the contact between them.

Begging entrance her tongue slipped inside of the older witches' mouth, hearing a moan in response. Hermione's hands began to explore Minerva's naked body, running down her trembling spine to cup her shapely backside. It was turn to moan when Minerva's lips abandoned hers and began to make their way down her throat to caress her collarbone.

Hermione's hands glided up Minerva's back, trailing gently over her flanks, feeling the older witch shudder. One brave hand slid around to caress a taut stomach, feeling muscles contract in response to her questing fingers. Minerva eased herself further down Hermione's body, dropping wet kisses around Hermione's eager breasts.

The young witch could feel the tingling and heat caused by Minerva's touch combining with that resulting from the magic coursing through the house. The effect was breathtaking, she arched her back pushing the older witches' mouth against her more firmly – intensifying the contact.

Minerva responded by rasping her teeth over one erect nipple causing a very loud, "Oh Minerva," to slip from pink lips - much the amusement of their invisible audience.

A slightly irritated Minerva growled, "Bugger." She nipped again at Hermione's nipple causing a muffled shriek that she tried to hide. Realising that their lovemaking was not exactly going to be quiet Minerva raised her voice, "Do you bloody well mind?! I chose not to make lewd comments about your activities, some consideration please... Dammit!"

Raucous laughter greeted her shout but no one dared to offer further comment.

Hermione lay underneath Minerva shaking with laughter.

"Now my dear, where were we?"

"Perhaps you should remind me Minerva...." The saucy young Gryffindor pulled Minerva into a searing kiss, a nimble and eager tongue exploring every millimetre of the older witches' mouth. A deep feral moan, almost a growl could be heard from the animagus, as she decided she rather liked the dominance that Hermione was trying to assert.

Tearing her lips from Hermione's she lowered herself once more to an ample chest, flicking a nimble tongue over eager nipples. The young witch cried out with delight, "Oh yes." Strong hands cupped her full breasts, fingers gently teasing her nipples while Minerva's mouth moved to the soft skin between her breasts. Revelling in the female intoxicating scent of Hermione, Minerva deeply inhaled, nuzzling, licking – making love to the younger woman.

It was an age before Minerva moved her attention lower.

Slowly, taking her time, savouring the sweet taste of Hermione's skin, she moved to pay homage to her lower abdomen. Kissing and caressing she listened to the noises that the younger woman was making eagerly. She smiled nipping gently at the soft skin, teasingly sliding her tongue into Hermione's navel before moving south once again.

By this point Minerva was practically kneeling on the floor, she pulled away slightly to admire Hermione's soft, gorgeous curls. "You are so very beautiful."

"Glad you think so, you're beautiful yourself."

"You truly are Hermione, in every way. I'm grateful that you have chosen to share that with me." Emerald eyes glinted with emotion, emotions that she would not admit to but desperately wanted to convey in that searing moment of eye contact.

She leaned in smiling as Hermione instinctively parted her thighs, watching as luscious wet folds were revealed to her gaze. Her eyes flickered back to chocolate eyes that were, despite her earlier orgasm, a little nervous. "Trust me Hermione."

"I do."

"May I?"

Hermione whimpered eagerly, spreading her legs a little further apart in invitation. Minerva smirked and placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's inner thigh, nuzzling the baby-soft skin of her left leg. She eased her way up towards the flower that was blooming before her, deliberately, slowly, making sure to kiss and nuzzle certain sensitive spots on her route.

The freshly blossomed flower was just aching for harvest, Minerva moaned. She slid strong hands up Hermione's thighs to cup her bottom and brought her mouth to her centre. The young witch cried out her pleasure, arching and writing under Minerva's tongue as she began an onslaught of erotic stimulation on Hermione's most sensitive, most tender areas.

It wasn't long before an insistent tongue penetrated Hermione's heated core, Hermione's thrusting hips began to match the tempo that Minerva set with her mouth. Surprisingly 12 Grimmauld Place quieted to manageable levels, the crackling of the fire mixed with soft breaths, small cries, and gentle growls – the complex melody of two witches making love.

The young witches' cries reached operatic pitch and decibels, her cry when she climaxed was almost high enough to shatter glass. It prompted a sudden silence throughout the entire building, before raised voices could be heard.

Molly Weasley, _"Is everyone alright down there?"_

Harry, _"Mione?"_

Ginny, _"Was it good for you?"_

Minerva growled menacingly.

Ron, "_Blimey, what did she do to you?"_

Hermione whispered for the older womans hearing alone, "She made love to me." Minerva's growl stopped as she stared into dilated eyes, tenderly. Hermione's hands began to caress Minerva's face lovingly, fingers slipping into greying hair as she stared into emerald orbs. After a moment that hand began to move from her face, down Minerva's throat, across a shoulder – revelling in the feel of Minerva's soft alabaster skin.

Her lips followed her fingers, blazing a path of fire as she explored the softness under them. Gently she eased Minerva onto her back. Raising her head she took a long moment for her chocolate eyes to feast on the landscape freely offered to her view. Womanly curves made the young witch lick her lips in anticipation.

Seeing the look in Hermione's eyes Minerva's own emerald orbs darkened in passion, in need. She raised her knees and opened her thighs daring Hermione to look. She couldn't believe how wanton she was being but couldn't bring herself to care. She wanted Hermione, wanted her kisses, and wanted to feel the young woman inside her.

Hermione ran her hands down the lush creaminess of Minerva's inner thighs, she could smell her lovers' arousal, it caused a heady rush of wetness to pool at her own centre. "Do you know how many times I've imagined this moment?" With that admission Hermione leant forward and kissed Minerva's inner thigh before moving higher.

An eager tongue split Minerva's folds, deliberately slow feather light touches made the older witch arch her back, desperate for friction. She was begging for more, "Please." It had been a long time since anyone had touched Minerva this way. Another whimper, "Please, oh please Hermione, I need..."

A devilish smirk appeared on Hermione's face, "I know exactly what you need." Her tongue became firmer; she suckled on Minerva's clit while slipping her fingers inside of the older woman. Minerva clutched at Hermione's hair, feeling her passion rise like a tide and crashing against the shore with a devastating intensity that took Minerva's sense of self and all that she was and shattered it into a thousand pieces for one blissful moment.

Her roar of completion rattled the panes in the windows through Grimmauld Place. This time however not a sound could be heard from the other inhabitants of the house. None of them dared to comment on the fact that Minerva McGonagall had obviously just had an orgasm, delivered at the hands of her former student.

They continued making love throughout the night, finally falling asleep in a tangle of limbs. Hermione was lying back against the pillows, Minerva slumbered peacefully between her thighs – her head was resting on the young womans tummy, a mass of wildly sex-mussed ebony hair was spread out over Hermione's chest covering her in a loving blanket. The sheet covered Minerva's lower body, leaving the creamy expanse of her back exposed.

Morning came much too soon. Hermione was awake, loving the feeling of finally being able to hold this amazing woman so very close. She had never imagined that her dreams would be fulfilled, her chocolate eyes filled with tears as she realised again that they would likely not survive the morning. She whispered softly, "At least you were mine... if only for a single night."


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: This is the final chapter of the first (but not last) collaboration between the wonderful Tigertales and I. Also it's the only chapter we've wrote together and in person. These trans-atlantic visits between us are fleeting and yet a lifeline, Love you Gizmo.**

**So enjoy the chap**

Acrid smoke burned Hermione's eyes and stung the back of her throat, as she ducked yet another burst of red plasma fired in her direction by an unseen and unidentified Death Eater. Dropping to her knees, she painfully crawled behind the smouldering remains of what was once Gryffindor's house table in The Great Hall.

As they had foreseen, the battle was not going well for The Order of the Phoenix. Hearing a muffled sob Hermione turned to the right, seeing Ginny cradling the lifeless body of her brother Fred. She hissed at the red-haired young witch, "There's nothing you can do for him, you have to fight!" The vehemence in her voice pulled Ginny from her grief, she was a Weasley after all. Gently, reverently she lowered her brothers' body to the floor and drew her wand.

Crystal blue eyes spotted Bellatrix Lestrange across the hall, the maddened witch was laughing as she inflicted the Cruciatus Curse on Neville Longbottom. The youngest Weasley rose and with a wail she charged at Bellatrix, pelting the Death Eater with golden flames that erupted from her wildly flailing wand.

Hermione swore, watching her friend leave the relative safety of the table and charge at one of the most dangerous witches in the room. Swiftly she rose and followed Ginny, bobbing and weaving to avoid the curses and hexes being shot across the room.

Meanwhile Minerva McGonagall stood like the mighty goddess of war as she shot fire and brimstone across the hall, raining hexes that crackled with immense power on the Death Eaters. Her hair was wildly mussed, freed from its confinement by the intense choreography of battle. Blood flowed freely from a gash in her cheek, a gash that sliced deeply into her cheekbone. A look of fierce anger burned in emerald eyes, as her wand moved faster than the eye could see.

She was magnificent.

The Headmistress fired yet another series of lightening towards three Death Eaters, faceless adversaries that she was certain had been her students at one time or another. Her foes returned her fire with a mixture of trepidation and glee as they realised exactly who their opponent was but instead of acting together, they fired separately – wildly, thus giving the more skilled Professor an advantage.

Minerva whirled and pirouetted with the feline grace of a dancer as she spun around and returned fire, a single blast of pure light from her wand splitting in three and hitting her opponents dead on. Unceremoniously the three fell into a heap, rendered unconscious by the power of her blast. She barely had time to react when a bolt of energy from an unseen foe streaked towards her, missing her by millimetres it singed her ear as it shot past her.

A male voice cried out, "Oh hell no!"

Minerva turned in time to see an armoured helmet flung into her attacker. The helmet was being held by a red-haired man, her saviour turned towards her. With a grin Ron Weasley spoke, "Gotta look out for 'Mione's woman." The words were barely out of his mouth before a barrage of green plasma burned the air between the two of them, causing them to leap for cover.

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Hermione Granger paused to beat the flames out of her own hair, it had been set alight by Bellatrix Lestrange. No damage had been caused but Hermione had to move quickly to dodge another blast of magic from the madly cackling witch. Ginny Weasley hastily conjured a shield charm that caused the spell to ricochet back at the insane witch. Wand waving wildly the Death Eater cast dual spells at both young women.

The youngest Weasley dove behind a fallen statue, Quidditch reflexes serving her well. Hermione was not fast enough and was hit by Bellatrix's hex, the magic impacting her shoulder violently and burning through the robes into her skin. The evil witch threw back her head, "One less Mudblood."

Her words were loud enough to be heard throughout the room, over all of the din. They were followed by the distinctive sound of a body hitting the floor.

Ginny fired a series of piercing hexes at Lestrange, causing the insane witch to turn towards the distraught Gryffindor with a blood-curdling laugh, "Another Weasley... Blood Traitor." She raised her wand and began to utter the words that would kill the red-head.

"Not my daughter, you bitch!" A furious screech came from the Weasley matriarch and the green flash of Avada Kedavra enveloped the Death Eater.

A small silver grey tabby lept between piles of rubble – piles too small to conceal a human but perfect to shield a cat from the myriad spells that were hurtling across the room. Emerald coloured feline eyes peered intently across the debris littered hall, spotting a body lying motionless on the floor – wild chestnut mane lying on Hermione's head like a halo, lying in a pool of her own blood.

And yet... The tabby eyes spied movement, the smallest rise and fall of Hermione's chest – she was alive. A phrase, uttered so softly that morning flashed through the mind of the animagus.

"_At least you were mine... if only for a single night."_

Hermione had not known that the older witch was awake, feigning sleep to prolong the sweet conclusion of their night together. The words had caused a single tear to fall from emerald eyes, at that moment the Headmistress had wanted nothing more than to take Hermione in her arms and away from all of this, to keep her safe, create a life with her.

The silver tabby hissed, baring her teeth and flattening her ears back against her skull as she saw a masked Death Eater approach Hermione's body, standing over the young woman. With an enraged yowl the tiny cat launched herself an impossible distance across the floor, leaping up and morphing in mid-air back into the unmistakeable form of Minerva McGonagall. The force of the impact knocked the man to his knees, Minerva landing beside him.

Angrily he swung his wand towards Minerva only to drop it with a screech of pain, grabbing at his testicles. From the floor a weakened Hermione Granger had set his trousers alight. The young witch painfully dragged herself to where Minerva McGonagall lay in an undignified heap of ebony hair and torn emerald robes.

"Minerva, are you... alright?"

Smoke from the battle momentarily obscured them from view. Taking advantage of the moment, tender young fingers reached out and touched Minerva's bleeding cheek.

"Hermione..." Emerald eyes pierced chocolate brown in a look of loving desperation, "Stay safe. Please... for me."

Mocha eyes twinkled and a cheeky grin crossed Hermione's face, "You too." Shocking (but deeply impressing) the older witch she stood and sprinted back into the fray, still trailing blood.

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The sound of sibilant hissing drew Minerva's eyes across the room to where the tall red-eyed form of Voldemort was standing. His grey scaly skin gleamed in the firelight. For a single moment their eyes met and although his lips never moved, she could hear his voice whisper her name.

Disgusted she raised her wand.

Horace Slughorn peered from behind the overturned chairs on the dais; he was sweating because he had seen something that the others had not. Voldemort was standing not ten feet away with his back towards the Potions Master. Being a consummate Slytherin, he had no qualms about hexing a mans back. Quietly, slowly he raised his wand...

A series of flashes lit up the entranceway, silhouetting the resplendent form of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Spying Voldemort he charged into the room with a battle cry, his wand brandished before him...

The evil wizard grinned maliciously, in a gesture insultingly casual he flourished his hand. A wave of power abruptly thrust Kingsley off of his feet and back from whence he came. Simultaneously Minerva McGonagall was lifted from her feet and flung into a wall, all breath knocked from her body as she collapsed to the floor. Meanwhile Horace Slughorn was plucked from his hiding place and thrown through an oak door behind the dais, shattering the wood as he fell and lay unmoving.

A young mans voice cried out, "Stop!"

Through the smoke, ash and debris strode Harry Potter. He took sure, confident steps as he moved into the centre of the room, facing Voldemort. With eloquence he began to verbally spar with the dark lord, enrapturing both him and the audience, as they began to circle each other.

Minerva took advantage of the calm moment to scan the room, desperately trying to spot the young witch who had vanished into the battle minutes before. Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Green eyes located many of her former students, many of her friends and associates but it meant nothing without Hermione – without the young woman who had come to mean so much to her, even before the events of the previous night.

She scarcely noticed when Voldemort fell, couldn't ever hear the screams of elation over the pounding beat of her own heart, as her eyes failed to find the chestnut haired witch who had mesmerised her so completely.

* * *

The battle was over.

The bodies of the dead had been identified and respectfully placed in empty classrooms, for friends and family to privately grieve. George Weasley had taken the body of his twin back to their home, leaving his family sobbing in the Great Hall.

It was many minutes later that Minerva's voice, magically magnified, issued a plea. "Has anyone seen Hermione Granger?" The stress that she was feeling was evident not only in the quiver in her voice but also in the grey pallor of her face. She had personally examined every body, dreading the worst but still had not found the young woman.

Those who had been in Grimmauld Place the previous evening understood the uncharacteristic desperation in her voice, having been privy to the intimacy that had occurred between the two witches. As a group, compassionately they left their personal mourning and stepped closer to the revered witch.

No one knew where Hermione was.

No one knew if she were dead or still living.

Minerva's lip trembled. Molly placed a hand on her arm, agonised blue eyes tried to offer comfort. The Scottish witch trembled and whispered, "I cannae loose her... not now." Twin rivulets of tears slowly trailed across dirty, bloodied cheeks. She was inconsolable but Molly took her into her arms as both women gave into their tears.

Harry and Ron exchanged worried gazes, Hermione couldn't be the one to die. Of the three she was the cleverest – the one most likely to survive against any odds. By sheer determination and staggering brilliance she had began to change many peoples views about muggleborns – Hermione had been destined for great things. Ron whispered, "Why couldn't it have been me?"

Unbeknownst to him Minerva was thinking exactly the same thing.

A wave of silence swept across the hall, everyone present witnessing another outpouring of grief, witnessing the breakdown, the crumbling of the last person that they expected it from – Minerva McGonagall. Unknowingly they were bore witness to the unvoiced love that had blossomed between the two powerful women.

It was in that moment of silence that the thunder of hooves could be heard, moving up the gravel path from the direction of the forest and into the courtyard. Before anyone could react, the doors to the Great Hall burst open in response to a mighty blow.

Silhouetted in the rising dawn was a rearing centaur, with the form of a familiar witch clinging to his back. An unruly mass of curls cascading over her back, it was obviously Hermione Granger. A slightly irritated tone that the boys recognised issued from her lips, "I would have gotten the doors Bane, there really was no need..."

Her voice cut off abruptly as she saw Minerva drop to her knees. The older witch had obviously been crying, her eyes were red, two clean streaks visible in the dirt on her face. In that moment Hermione's heart skipped a beat – what could have caused the strong, proud Gryffindor to feel such pain?

With a snort Bane stepped into the hall, hooves loudly echoing on the stone and in the silence permeating the room. **Clop, clop, clop. **Holding her injured arm close against her body, she whispered, **"**Bane... Let me down... I need..."

The centaur helped the young witch from his back. "Go to her."

Hermione turned unerringly meeting emerald eyes with her own, noticing the unshed tears that threatened to spill. In the silence of the room Minerva's soft words reached her ears.

"I thought that I had lost you... I searched... but I couldn't find you..." A sob, "I thought that I had lost you ..." Her voice was broken, full of pain. "I..."

Any restraint that the young witch possessed, was lost in that moment. She watched as Minerva tentatively outstretched her arms wordlessly, in silent invitation. It was an invitation Hermione could not, would not refuse.

She ran as fast as she could across the flagstones and into Minerva's trembling arms. The older witch pulled her tight into an embrace, one hand gripping the back of Hermione's head and the other wrapped around her waist. "I am... never letting you out of my sight ever again young lady."

With a grin the young witch cocked her head, looking up into emerald eyes with a saucy expression. "Promise?"

It was at that moment that they found themselves engulfed in a mass embrace from everyone around them. There was laughter mixed in with tears, sighs of relief and emotional words. And yet emerald eyes stared, never wavering into the chocolate brown that was staring back at her.

* * *

Hours later

Fragrant steam rose from Hermione's bathwater as the young witch relaxed into the huge claw foot tub. Her mind was replaying scenes from the battle and her face took on a pensive expression. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that it was only when Minerva's hand tenderly ran through her hair that she noticed the older woman.

Chocolate brown eyes glanced upwards, making eye contact for a moment before taking in the older witches appearance. "You look like hell."

"Why thank you... you know how to shower a woman with compliments."

Hermione grinned at the sarcasm, she reached out of the tub with a soapy arm and grabbed her wand. Minerva meanwhile gaped at the skin revealed by the action, ample rounded breasts erupted from the bubbles, rock hard nipples grabbed the Professors attention – she exhaled sharply, a response that Hermione couldn't miss, making the Cheshire cat grin even wider.

A murmured healing spell sealed the gash on Minerva's cheek. Another charm freed the remaining hair from the dishevelled bun. Minerva whispered, "Thank you."

"Oh I'm not finished yet...Divisto." Minerva yelped as her clothing disappeared and she was standing nude in the cold room. "Care to join me?" The professor gaped at the young woman, blinking owlishly for a moment.

Brown eyes devoured the elegant form before her, "Beautiful."

Minerva gaped once again, she was filthy and covered in dirt, blood and bruises. However this stunningly curvy young woman was calling her beautiful. "Hermione?"

"I'll scrub your back... join me?"

How could Minerva do anything but accede? She lowered her body into the water with a groan, it felt good on her abused body and for a moment she closed her eyes. The older witch grinned as she felt a young body slip into her arms, lips pressing against the skin of her collarbone – opening her eyes she looked down at the gorgeous figure of Hermione Granger lying against her chest.

Another moan escaped her lips, as she remembered the contentment she had felt with Hermione in her arms after their fierce lovemaking of the previous evening, how it had felt to have the young witch cradled in her arms. Her voice brokenly whispered, "Never scare me like that again!"

Hermione kissed the smooth skin under her lips once more, "I love you."

Tender fingers lifted the young womans chin to enable eye contact between the two witches. "And I love you Hermione."

"I'm sorry that I scared you... the last thing that I want is to hurt you."

The older woman smiled, leaning closer, lowering her head before meeting full lips in a tender loving kiss. Hermione's hands slid up Minerva's chest, wrapping around an elegant neck as she turned her body – her breasts pressing deliciously against the older womans. Minerva moaned deeply as their hardened nipples kissed.

Breathlessly she whispered in Hermione's ear, "Last night... I haven't felt that way in... more years than I care to admit."

"I didn't know it could be like that... sex I mean."

"There's a difference between having sex and making love, we made love."

The young witch sat up a little straighter and in a quiet uncertain voice asked, "So... what happens now? Where do we go from here?"

"Well... personally... I had planned on making mad passionate love to you for the rest of my life. How does that sound?"

A huge grin lit up Hermione's face, "That sounds... like a plan to me."

* * *

The End


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